Fashion, beauty, advice, tips, and rants, I hope to do my best at giving you guys the best information I can. Any products I review are my own opinions and purchased with my own money, I'm not popular enough to get free stuff I guess.
I'm a 19 year old second year student majoring in Communications Studies at Carleton University. I love writing and beauty, so this blog is going to be a culmination of all the things I am most passionate about. Thank you so much for checking out my blog!
My life has been sort of up in the air these past few months, and as a result of the lack of structure, I've also lacked in goals and motivation. I wake up, I eat, I work if I'm scheduled, and I go home. It's all become a rather monotonous standstill in which I dream and postulate all the things I want to accomplish "someday".
It took a rather traumatizing trip to the mall for me to realize that things cannot carry on this way. In the past two years I've become the most unhappy with myself ever and I'm determined to change that one day at a time. #ABeansFitnessJourney (???)
So here are my body goals:
Start Small: As of right now, the only gym I have access to is the university gym, and unfortunately it's kind of out of the way, and parking is expensive, so I'll start by doing smaller at home activities, primarily utilizing the empty spare room to do various exercises in the morning.
Lift!: I will be aiming to get a gym membership and spend at least 5 days a week dedicating myself to becoming a proper gym rat with fitness selfies and everything to show off the toned body I'm desperate to have
Meals: I just did a huge healthy grocery shop with my roommate last night, so no more excuses. I will drink one glass of apple cider vinegar concoction every morning with a healthy breakfast of yogurt, granola, and fruit. One day a week will be dedicated to satisfying my cravings within moderation. I am going to learn to love kale. Love. It. (*dies inside*)
Financially, I'm also a wreck. So here is my plan to be less of a financial disaster and more savvy with my money. AKA How I intend to stop living paycheck to paycheck for the first time, like, ever. #adult
All my tip money will be saved (minus this impromptu trip to the grocery store last night) while my paychecks will be used sparingly.
Immediate things that need to be taken care of: Phone, misc bills, insurance, and registration (i.e. paying all those stupid tickets)
What I'm saving for:
Moving out of the ghetto: $1200 by July for first and last for a decent place to move into with my boyfriend, friend and his girlfriend.
A NEW VEHICLE! This past year has been one heartbreaking disaster after another and as much as I love my car, she deserves to be retired. Obviously financing a vehicle will be the only way I can get a newer-ish one so saving for however buying a new vehicle is a priority within the year.
Travel: School has taken a bit of a backseat ever since I moved out. It's kind of unrealistic for me to work part-time and go to school even with loans. So I figure until I am ready to jump back into the student life, I want to go to Scotland. I'm aiming to spend/save $5000-$7000 by next summer so I can cross it off my bucket list. Let's face it, Scotland is the reason why I have a bucket list in the first place.
To be FREE: I'm very very very tired of stressing over money. I've cried too many times over it and it's exhausting. I want to be free of both worry and stress and not have to worry if I'll have enough money to pay rent or insurance or buy groceries. And what I have to sacrifice in order to barely live.
And that's it for today. I'm going to try and chug down the rest of this apple cider vinegar and work some more on my fictional writing next. Have a good day and until next time...
As part of my Bean v. 5.0 improvement plan, thing, whatever, the gym is becoming an integral part of my daily routine. I daresay that what once used to be an intimidating place has now become a place of refuge. It's not often I get to just have time to myself, to worry about myself, and to blast my music (which now consists of an absurd amount of country songs that are motivating, heartbreaking, and twinge-worthy*). In the gym, I don't have to worry about anything beyond what I'm doing in that moment. If I'm running, by god I will run; if I'm lifting, by god will I give it my all.
Honestly, this was a long time coming. I feel like nothing teaches you perseverance (for the average folk like myself) better than the gym. I might not have had much adversity in my life, and because of that I feel like I easily just give in and give up too easily. At the gym, that's not allowed. If that treadmill says run for 30 minutes or 60 minutes, girl, knees to chest! I love it.
Now that my time and thoughts are less consumed (key word: LESS) by Alan, I have a lot more motivation to do what I want. Before, even though he was gone a lot, I didn't particularly want to linger around campus, let alone go to the gym. Why? Because why would I want to hang around a crowded school campus where my anxiety is always there in the back of my mind like some kind of brain static? Especially when I knew that I could go back to his place - a place that had become my own little safe haven, away from parents, family, and peers - and just hide. Like I mentioned before, if I didn't have to go anywhere, for the rest of the day, I would just go back to what I considered my second home. And that was wrenched from me before I could say "Harry Potter".
As a result, I need to find other ways to keep me away from my parents' house because I don't have a home. That quote where they're like, "Home is where the heart is" like no, girl. Home is where you can be wholly yourself. Where your mind isn't going 100km/h and where every little thing doesn't make you jump; where you can vegetate in peace and where you can double chin all you want and walk around with no pants or even no clothes on at all. Home is where you are comfortable, and right now, I'm most comfortable in my car. So I guess that's my home.
Being jobless right now sucks. I might have to tuck my tail between my legs and go back to a job I'd walked out on two years ago now because even though the drama sucked, the pay was good and so were the hours (albeit long, at least I had hours). And I was good at what I did while I was there. And I burned that bridge for Alan. Because it was that weekend when we went on the Best-Worst camping trip of my life and I will never regret that. I do regret just not showing up for my last two shifts, but I feel like I got along with everyone still there well enough that if I prove to them I am a hard worker and that I will never put a man before my job, it should work out? But this is a last resort plan. For now, today is dedicated to handing out resumes in person and going from there.
I'll continue on with these daily diary type of posts, mostly for my benefit, I think they're really good for my own personal growth and healing, and I'd like to look back on this time in my life one day and smile because it will be moments like this that I'll be able to say that I didn't get burned by the fire, but became the flame.
Love and Light,
A. Bean
*twinge-worthy: similar to cringe worthy but less cringe more twinge. Like a slight pang in your heart or a poke at your ribs.
PS - Joe Brock on Instagram is wonderful, and unfortunately his posts are quite lengthy and wouldn't mesh well with the little quotes I like to spread out on this blog, but if you have a moment, please check him out! His words are everything my heart feels and more.
PPS - In addition to quotes, I'll also be doing songs because those help my heart a lot too. Right now, they are mostly country because a) Alan loved Chris Stapleton; b) I actually find him to be one of the best country artists personally - even though Alan was the one to introduce me to him and his awesomeness; c) honestly safe to assume that 99% of the country music featured on this blog is thanks to Alan.
I'm sitting here in class while I write this - very productive, I know. I've got a peppermint tea - it's supposed to be calming - and a double chocolate chip muffin - from the useless groceries I'd bought last Thursday. This morning sucked. All of my most worn/liked clothes are still bundled up in my blanket on my car. I walked out the house at 6:45 AM in nothing but *Alan's flannel shirt and my sneakers. I had to put my pants on in my freezing car - my leggings being even more frozen than the snow on the lawn - and my winter footwear now resides in a box in the shed. Because I was supposed to be staying with Alan. Last night was the first night I've spent at home in two months. Maybe more. Two and a half? Christ.
Some days will better than others. It's weird to be talking with him again so soon. And this time it's me reaching out rather than vice versa. We talked about our relationship and our many faults (he has baggage; I put others before myself). We talked about work and school and life and movies....I think it's fucked up, but I think he likes us, and wants me, more when we aren't "dating" per se. I don't know what's happening, or how this affects him, but me? I know I'm so messed up for even considering another sexcapade with him.
I wear his ring around my neck like some kind of sick trophy.
I don't know what I intend to do with it in the future - it fits none of my fingers. But it's meaning...what it symbolizes is why I took it. It's like a physical relationship status ring. Wear one way, it means single; wear it another, it means in a relationship; wear it a different way, it means engaged; and another way it means married. And when we were together - while he'd stopped wearing for a few months - every time he wore it, he wore it in the "single" position.
I knew what it meant. That he knew that I knew what it represented. After all, it was he that had explained it's meanings. Meanings which have stuck with me every time I looked at that damn ring. To add insult to injury, he'd wear the ring along with the watch I'd bought him for Christmas. A watch that I took, but will give back. I took the watch, ring, and scotch out of pettiness, but while all of those things are useless to me, I'm keeping the ring. The watch and scotch I'll return. I can't bring myself to sell the watch to anyone else. It doesn't belong with anyone else. Whatever he chooses to do with it after is up to him - he did keep it after the first breakup, although he also acquired the ring at the same time.
We spoke the other night - he's back on my social media, and while all I want to do is tag him in cute puppy videos, I remain unsure of where this "friendship" draws the line. I've never been friends with an ex. Certainly not one I'm in love with because I've never loved anyone like I love him. Not that I have a vast amount of relationship experience, but it wouldn't be my first "first time" doing something with him.
At any rate, we are planning on hanging this weekend. Follow me on Twitter to keep up to date on when I will have my post up regarding the weekend shenanigans that will undoubtedly ensue. Follow @aly_bean
Lucky for this blog, every time my life goes into crisis mode this thing gets a whole flood of content! (Barring the last crisis earlier this year since I was being flooded by liquor and poor judgment).
This post is going to be significantly shorter than the last, and it's going to consist of things that I will be doing to take of myself.
SPEND ONE WHOLE YEAR SOBER - I don't mean this in an "I'm an alcoholic" type of way, although that is arguable. I mean this in a "I will not get shittered because of a broken heart" type of way. It really does nothing except make things worse on my heart and body. And I don't know if my liver can physically handle another three month bender. Am I never gonna touch a drink for a whole year? I mean, that's the goal, but I won't deny myself a bottle of wine to unwind and de-stress.
GET AWAY - Like I mentioned in my last post, I am going to be booking myself a birthday getaway in the mountains where I can disconnect and recharge - if I could do it sooner I would, but alas, my birthday seems the best time for me to disappear as I hate celebrating it and I would rather not remember that I will be turning 22.
EMBRACE THE SINGLE LIFE - Having rewatched a bunch of my old videos, I can confidently say that I have not truly been single in 3 years. I have loved someone else for 3 years and have neglected myself. Like I said, I am insecure and I'm hoping in embracing singledom I can find my confidence again.
LOVE MYSELF - I'm being dragged to the gym and I couldn't be more relieved. I need to keep myself busy and if I can get my body back (dating Alan for the last year and a half was not good for my waistline) all the better.
If you have any other suggestions on how to take care of yourself and tips on how to be single please tweet me @aly_bean or leave it in the comments! I will also be updating my YouTube channel more, so keep an eye out for that! (YT: Alycia Benson)
For those of you who are new readers, hi! I often use this blog solely to vent my heartache it seems, but I'm hoping you'll get something out of it.
Maybe.
To pick up where my last post left off, and breaking my promise (sorry, but this is highly therapeutic...), SURPRISE! After months of calling and texting me we got back together....and then broke up again. Will it happen again? I'm not entertaining that thought. Just so we're on the same page,
here is a recap of the last year of my life:
MAY 2015
I met a man who was everything I wanted and more. Literally thought he was perfect for me. He was tall, dark, and handsome with an old world perspective.
Predictably, we dated. Like anyone else, we had our ups and downs.
We did sleep together after initially meeting - something I don't regret.
JUNE
Continued "seeing" each other, though not exclusively.
We did go on dates, I met his sister.
JULY
He (we'll call him *Alan) and his sister got evicted.
Due to a sudden financial downturn, he ended up couch surfing for a bit.
Because of the eviction and some long unsolved issues, Alan and his sister stopped talking to each other.
His friend let him stay in the living room of his one bedroom downtown apartment. Alan has an air mattress so it wasn't too bad (yes, I slept over a few times on the air mattress).
Despite all this, we went on our first camping trip together during which resulted in his truck breaking down at the start of the weekend and us being stuck there all weekend until his friend could come pick us and the boat up at the end of the weekend.
AUGUST
He crashes his motorcycle.
I become his emergency contact.
He is now motorcycle-less and vehicle-less
SEPTEMBER
Priority #1 becomes getting a vehicle as school had started for me and I would be waking up at 4:30 in the morning to drive him from downtown to work then I would go back home to sleep a bit as I didn't have classes until 11 AM normally.
He finds a vehicle, spends more for it than he'd like, but ultimately it was his style of vehicle and he loved, it was in good condition.
OCTOBER
Thanksgiving and his birthday fall at the same time
We celebrated both together, I treated him to a night out, all of his friends were there.
NOVEMBER
He finds a new place to live that is closer to work for him.
He is going out of town a lot for work now.
DECEMBER
My birthday - he's still out of town
Christmas - he gave me a gift set from lush and a tea set; I got him a Fossil watch (he'd said he didn't have any kind of nice watch to wear).
My family invites him to Jasper with us for some skiing over the New Year; he says no.
JANUARY 2016
The Facebook Breakup
FEBRUARY-MARCH
Honestly, a blur. During this time, I was going out every weekend and drinking heavily. I did anything to try and heal myself, and everything I did wasn't the healthiest options for a broken heart.
He also continued to contact me from the end of February until the end of March when I finally returned his calls and text messages.
At the end of March, I went to his place to return a part I'd had for his bike since his accident in August. We slept together and it was the best I'd ever had.
I stayed the night, but the following morning I did try to leave while he was in the bathroom. Emotions took over, and I found myself crying in my car - a favourite place of mine to let out some pent up emotions apparently.
APRIL
We officially were back together, he came out with friends of mine and truly made an effort. We both did.
MAY-AUGUST
We had an amazing summer together.
Again, some bumps, but things didn't really take a turn for the worst until August/September.
He quit his job, something he'd thought about doing for a long time.
At the end of August, he had a wedding in Ontario to go to. His reasons for not asking me to go with him - he couldn't afford my ticket and he knew I couldn't afford one either as work was slow for me. This caused a bit of a rift on my end.
SEPTEMBER
He comes back from the wedding and a week and a half at home. I think he very much needed this vacation (from life and me(?)).
While he was gone, he informs me of some worrying things happening on his downstairs. He assures me he has never physically cheated on me, but nonetheless I get checked out. I'm clean.
When he comes back he goes to the Dr. and for dignity's sake, we'll say that his bumps were more than just razor burn.
I offer to pay for groceries and dinner as I had been staying at his place for awhile and he was jobless - I felt the need and responsibility to contribute where I could.
To fill our time, we went to the animal shelter and had his landlord allowed it, we would have adopted our own little fur baby.
He gets a new job offer at the end of the month.
OCTOBER
Thanksgiving and his birthday. We did a friends-giving at his friends' house on the Saturday and then Thanksgiving at my parents' house the next day. He hadn't seen my parents since Christmas and having my S.O. be a part of my family is a little important to me. Little did I know, this would be the catalyst for our breakup.
I give him his birthday present at friends-giving along with his card once we got home.
On Monday morning, he left for work until Friday.
Friday morning, 11 AM, he comes home. I could tell all week he'd been distant. Something I recognized from before.
Our day and evening go normally. He went to get his hair cut, I worked on assignments. He came home and kept avoiding me from moving to the couch to the bedroom, I'd go join him so we can catch up and talk about the week and this upcoming weekend, he'd move away to the bathroom, then to the couch where I'd join him and he'd move away again.
He goes to make dinner, we watch a movie, everything appears, fine but tense. I see him texting another woman, he barely tries to hide it. He shows me a photo of him five years ago. We finish the movie, he goes to the bedroom, I ask if we could watch Harry Potter, he says we need to talk.
October 14, 2016 - THE END.
Only mildly getting into the sordid details of our second breakup (which basically consisted of much of the same problems he'd had before), here is a condensed-ish list of his reasons why we needed to breakup which he prefaced with a "I hate seeing your stuff in my place, I'm a very independent person and I feel smothered." His reasons go as follows:
He just turned 24, having been in the military for five years, he feels he is physically falling apart. In three years he'd like to buy a house and start a family.
Because of this, he wants kids before he's 30 so that he is able "to play hockey with his kids" and not kill himself doing so. In a nutshell, he wants to be a strong role model for his kids.
He doesn't see us going long term despite my support and many virtuous qualities (paraphrasing).
And finally, the true kick in the teeth, he never loved me.
All of his reasons are valid and justified. When I asked why he didn't think any of what he wanted would be possible with me, he simply said that he didn't know, only that he didn't see us having a future together.
So his perspective now painted for you, here are my thoughts on the white picket fence dream.
Marriage is a sham. A social construct with archaic traditions and beliefs. It is not necessary, not to mention the legalities involved. I would never change my last name for anyone.
If you absolutely must have a ceremony, no circuses.
Onto kids. This is where I get a little iffy. I had never wanted kids before Alan. He made me want to have a baby or two and that thought is terrifying because it wasn't just a fur baby he wanted, but an actual baby/babies. Full disclosure: we did have a pregnancy scare over the summer - it turned out to be nasty cramps, don't worry. During that time, he had assured me he would be there for me if it turned out I really was pregnant. I was of course relieved to not be, but I think he was a little more disappointed mixed with a little relief.
My own feelings about kids aside, I knew after our first few months back together and the magic of being together again wore off, I realized he never loved me. After Canada Day, I knew he began speaking to other women again. Prior to this, two friends of mine had found his Tinder profile. I was going to end things then, but didn't because I was deluded and thought we could still work out. He did later admit to having a Tinder which he used "for shits and gigs" - boy, if you think you're gonna find your baby mama on Tinder, you are more fucked than we both thought.
Because of this, I also learned that we had two different ideas of the meaning of "cheat" (**see definition below).
While someday, I would love to settle down (I thought I was ready for that now, but apparently not). This relationship made me realize that I still have a lot I need to accomplish before I settle. I want to have a career and travel. Not that I can't do any of that WITH someone, the right someone, but with kids, that's obviously more of a challenge.
And boy did I burn.
In my eyes, 24 is not that old. And I never imagined that a two-year age gap would create this much of a rift between us. Alas, he is an old soul, and while I value old-fashioned morals, my plans for the next couple years revolve around travel and a career if I'm lucky. While my actions reflect my age, my values reflect my soul, and I think that's important for me to realize. Of course he had many times where it was a little obvious he wished he could still be in college, especially when he'd go "crush beers with the boys" and we'd listen to songs from 2010.
While he is in his second career, I haven't even started mine. When he's ready to buy a house, I'll probably still be renting. I never wanted to admit it before, but we just are not at the same place in our lives where we can connect with each other on a deeper level.
I know while we were together, I relied heavily on him to take care of me.
When we got back together, I held fast to the woman I wanted to be, the woman I wanted to be and intended to become while we were apart. But that didn't happen, I got comfortable with falling back into a routine and I'd known from the start that if we were going to last, we needed to change. At first, we did, but you can't change who you fundamentally are.
I gave 110% of my heart and soul into this relationship, but ultimately, I believe that after the honeymoon phase is over, you have to make a conscious decision to love the person you're with everyday. I believe you choose to fall in love with someone, but lust is out of our control. You can be in lust for a month or a year, but once that passes, you need to choose to love someone.
And that choice wasn't mine to make. I made my choice, he made his. He chose to not love me. And I have to accept that. He is the great man I know he is, and that might sound like I'm not over him, but I am. I just will never stop loving the man who, for over a year, filled my heart with so many memories and love. Despite all the pain, there was good, and there was a reason why I stayed. I accept him for the man he is, but I think most women's greatest flaw is falling in love with the potential of a man, rather than the man himself.
I did everything I could in this relationship, and I am at peace this time.
We have agreed to try and be friends. I know that losing him completely is not something I can do, as we tried and it didn't work. Even in the beginning, I'd always harboured a hope that if/when we broke up, we'd remain friends. As opposite as we are, we share a lot in common. With him still in my life, as a friend, I believe this will lead a healthier overall relationship with both him and myself.
I know him as a boyfriend, and to be honest, he sucked at it. Maybe it was just because he didn't love me as said. In April to July, everything was perfect. We went out, we laughed, we loved. But relationships take work and he wasn't willing to put in the effort, and I wasn't willing to pick up the slack. He would go through the motions of being a "good" boyfriend, but nothing concrete came of it because his heart wasn't in it.
However, I've seen him as a friend, and I know he would go above and beyond for all of his friends. He's a better man when he's a friend. And I feel like knowing him as a friend is the best option for us. For me. I would rather have him as a friend rather than not at all, and when it comes to us seeing other people, I know it will hurt, I may get jealous, but I will know that I had him before she did, that I loved him more fiercely than she can imagine.
I do believe we got stuck in a rut. I do think there could have been some changes, but again, I did try, and my actions were a result of what I thought was the right thing at the time. We never talked. Not really. Not about real things or things that mattered.
As a person, my nature is to curl in a ball in the corner and not move and I would be satisfied with that. I don't tend to go out unless I have to and because of that, I rely on other people to get me motivated, when I need to rely on myself more. I need to trust that I can make myself okay for me and that I will make my life good for me. I thought he was the person to motivate me to get out of bed in the morning, but I need to provide that motivation for myself.
I am insecure.
I crave the love and affection of others. I love being held at night and I love cuddling together on the couch just being. I love being teased and having my ass slapped (by my S.O. of course).
I know I can't be all of that, but, I can be most of that for me. And taking care of me isn't something I've done for over two years now.
For the remainder of my education, I'm going to put my focus on myself and be selfish. I have spent the last three or four years giving everything I had to guys who didn't deserve it and that's my fault. This year and next, I will take care of myself. My birthday present to myself this year will also be a getaway to the mountains. I need to escape and get out of this town. I need to feel free again. Originally, I had wanted to go away with him, but obviously we won't be doing that. I do need to disconnect and recharge and find myself, love myself, and stay away from pelvic sorcery for the rest of my degree. And probably afterwards too.
I would love nothing more than to settle into a comfortable and loving relationship, but that's not in my cards, clearly. I feel emotionally and mentally drained, having been consumed by a loveless relationship. I didn't even realize that I was the only one holding up the heavy walls of our relationship. I still cry. I cried while recapping our relationship, I woke up at 7 AM feeling numb, I cried before and after breakfast and I haven't moved from this spot on the couch all day.
But I can't live the rest of my life looking back on past memories. I can't drive down the roads and listen to the radio and turn on Netflix and talk to people without instinctively thinking about us. But I can't move on when I'm still consumed by the past. Keeping busy is going to be best thing for me right now. I'm going to spend my time in the gym and with friends and hopefully at work.
I am going to focus on creating new memories. I want to be able to go about my life without crying at the drop of a hat. I will never be able to listen to some songs without thinking about us and the laughter and goofiness we would have. Because that's the thing about songs. They create and hold within them memories. Memories which will be a part of my life forever. But in the grand scheme of things, and in my story, this chapter of my life is over.
I have learned, this time, that I am capable of a great love. As much as I would love to jump ten years into the future, just to see and know that my life really does turn out to be okay, I know that keeping hope and optimism in everything I do is vital. The best I can do for me right now is turn all the love that I gave him over this crazy journey, and give it all back to myself. Because right now, no one deserves it more than I do.
I do.
Love and light,
A. Bean. Tweet to @aly_bean
* Name has been changed, not that it matters because if you watch the video, I said it there - oops
**To cheat (according to A. Bean): to emotionally or physically be unfaithful to one's partner. (i.e. (a) flirting with others via social media and/or text message; this flirtation alludes to a potential "date" or meet up. (b) the exchanging of nudes by either party. (c) the traditional meaning of the word "cheat".)
PS- Thank you to R.H. Sin for providing me with words that encompass my feelings better than I ever could.
PPS- This is a vlog/video I filmed when I first began seeing him. I knew this was something I had to share the minute I saw how happy I was to have met him and be with him. This video represents my naive hopes and dreams of our future as well as an innocence I will never regain.
So this is going to be a follow up post from my last Update post here. My goal is to make this post as full of positivity and a lot less "rant-y" than my previous post on the matter. Plus, with Valentine's Day just around the corner, I figured this post is both therapeutic and helpful, since it's that time of year again and, arguably, the worst time of the year (whether you're single or not, let's be honest *shameless plug* read my Valentine's day post from 2014 to see why!)
Okay, moving on to the point of the post. Like most women, I have surrounded myself with friends and alcohol in an effort to console myself in light of recent events. During this important time, I decided that a 30-day no contact period would be the best way to handle the situation. Until I realized I was using my no contact period as a crutch. I was counting down the days until I could let myself talk to him again.
People, particularly those who have been broken up with by their SO, are under the impression that closure is needed before one can move on. But when the possibility of closure is impossible, or non-attainable, I feel like people get wrapped up in the idea that they need answers to move on. This is false.
I probably, at this point, understand very well the burning need for answers and the curiosity that eats away you. Thinking again and again that if you could just meet up one more time, the stars will realign and everything will be fine again. Well, that's false and I am not saying that from experience. I am saying this coming from a place of rationality and understanding. Try to empathize with the person who shattered your heart, try to see what they saw was wrong with your relationship, but you'll never get answers that way.
Dwell and grieve for as long as you need to, but pick up your head after and realize that brighter days are ahead. Even if those brighter days revolve purely around your next glass or six of cheap wine. Because sometimes in life, it's the little things that count and I believe in keeping hope alive no matter what. Whether you're swamped with school, heartbroken, or in a rut, realize that things will get better.
It doesn't get easier. You'll always love them, every little inconsequential thing might remind you of them, and there will be days that you feel like you can't breathe unless you have them back in your life. When that happens, take a deep breath, have a drink or two, and move on. Acceptance is a key part of the grieving process and it's often the part that is the hardest to achieve. But it's possible. Keep your chin up, embrace a new hobby or rediscover an old, surround yourself with people who love you, and let go of the past. Treasure the memories, look back fondly on the good times, but don't try to recreate them. You can't.
There's a quote that floats around the Internet that I see sometimes:
And I don't think nothing could ever be more true. My ex truly was my first love, even if I wasn't his, but to the next man in my life, I hope you do better than your predecessor because he left you a wreck to deal with. As if I wasn't enough of a wreck as it is! (That was my sad attempt at humour *hint hint* *nudge nudge*)
I've also come to a very enlightening conclusion which was this: It is not my responsibility to be the first one to reach out to him. Having been the person to break up with someone else on many occasions, I have always known that being the one to do the breaking up holds a certain amount of power. And with great power comes great responsibility. So, if your ex broke up with you and wanted to get back in touch, as the person responsible for the break up, it is on them to try to reach out first. They left a gem behind and when they realize your worth, you'll have already moved on.
Bottom line? Be kind.
If they reach out and you're confident in your own feelings, reach back (in a friendly manner) and if you're not ready for that step, tell them that you're not ready to get back in touch, and when/if you ever are, you'll reach again and this time, the ball is in your court.I believe that if you emit positive energy, karma will be there for you. So simply be kind to one another. (Unless your ex is a crazy criminal, in which kindly but urgently call the cops, a lawyer, and get a restraining order).
I am making this promise to myself today: This is the last post I will make about my most recent fail of a relationship.
And in spirit of that promise, I will be posting a makeup review type thing next week! I'm going to try and make Wednesdays my blogging days.
I hope this post helped you and that my advice made some sense? If you guys have any suggestions or ways you get over a semi-serious/serious relationship, please leave it in the comments below or tweet me @aly_bean
So, I realize it's a bit ironic for me to do a rant-type post after just going on about self-improvement, but, like I said in my last post, old habits tend to die hard, and I am a very stubborn individual. Also old, so you know, old dogs and new tricks don't go together. But, I have justified this post in convincing myself it is for the greater good. Also, it just really, desperately needs to be addressed. I was going to do a video on this topic simply because my mouth moves faster than my fingers, as do my thoughts, but my background is kind of shady, and the whole video would be an hour long rant. This has the semblance of more structure, I think.
For those who don't know, I am biracial. My mom is Vietnamese, and my dad is Canadian (read: a whole mishmash of cultures where there is some percentage of Scandinavian and some percentage of Aboriginal and some percentage of Ukrainian. I think.) I only offer this information because it is pertinent to the discussion and gives me some amount of authority on the topic. Otherwise, my race shouldn't - and doesn't - really matter.
Since reaching adulthood and branching off into a world outside of my parents' circle of influence, I have been confronted more now than ever about my race. From questions like "What are you?" and "Where are you from?" they get more and more intrusive depending on the person asking them.
These are all usually asked before my name is even known or is usually the next question after "What's your name?" To go up to a person who looks, and I'm purposely being generic here, white, and ask them where they are from is laughable and ridiculous. Well, the same thing when I'm asked where I'm from. I am from Canada, I was born here. I have never permanently moved anywhere else - I had a two year stint in Ontario, if you recall from my earlier posts. I am a human being, that is what I am. More specifically, then, if that doesn't satisfy the question, I am a biologically female human being. Not a martian, surprise! I am exactly what you are, so when I am asked, "What are you" you can only imagine my shock, amusement, and annoyance. The other person's reaction is even more laughable when I answer that I am human and that I am Canadian.
People say"what are you" or "where are you from" as a means to be more politically correct, but what they don't realize is that to even ask the question damns them. I won't fault their curiosity, but at the same time, why does it matter what my race is? I am fully aware that I maybe don't look like a "typical" white girl (again I am being very general and loose with that term). I am also very self conscious of that fact and when it is pointed out to me, I feel even more awkward. Which I shouldn't. I am very proud of who I am and where my parents are from and I love my culture. Both of them.
Being mixed race is hard enough as it is - you feel like you don't belong anywhere - without having people interrogate you about it.
That lengthy backstory brings me to what I really wanted to discuss which is the use of the word "exotic" when referring to someone "not from here". For the purpose of this post, we will use "not from here" to refer to people who are not physically different (either in skin tone, hair texture, eye shape, etc.).
The other night while I was at work, near the end of my shift, a single middle aged gentleman(ish) walked in - he's clearly "from here" - and as I approached him, he asked about my hair texture (naturally curly) to which he seemed to enjoy - apparently he has a "thing" for curly haired gals (ew...) - and then asked about my race - again using the standard "where are you from" line - to which I replied as nicely as possible - because despite hating my job I still need my job - that my mother is from Vietnam and my dad is from here with some sort of Scandinavian background - hence my accursed curls. He widened his eyes in delight, ooohed and ahhhed over my race and proclaimed me "exotic".
PS - Dude, if you're reading this by some gross chance and sick twist of fate, I might work in a restaurant, but I still have a small miniscule shred of dignity left that I guard like a starving, rabid dog over a masticated bone. In other words, I don't want/need a sugar daddy. Yet. And when/if I do need one, I certainly won't be asking you to step up.
Upon being called exotic, I nearly threw up in my mouth. But, because I am great at my job, forced a tight lipped smile and proceeded to avoid eye contact and approaching his vicinity for the duration of my shift. I am not "exotic". I am not some imported rarity. I am a person, not a thing, and I think that is my biggest issue when I am faced with this question of race. I feel like a thing. An exotic thing that is there only to be admired and ooohed and ahhed over.
The problem with this is that I am reduced to being a thoughtless inanimate object. Which sort of sets back decades of feminist movements and advances. Hey, Emma Watson, speak up for the "exotic" people, too, okay?
When someone is reduced to being just "exotic" my ideas, dreams, pursuits, goals, and thoughts are irrelevant. Because I am exotic. I am like a Siberian Tiger placed in a zoo. Just there to be looked at and cared for and never free. I deserve to be more than caged. I deserve to be more than "exotic". Or a car. Cars are also described as exotic. I am, sadly, not a transformer.
This is a problem not just with strangers, but also in my sad pursuit of love. Boys only want me because I am exotic, men only want to creep on me, and I am left stranded in the middle, wanting neither. I deserve respect.
Not really, but you get the idea....
And that is something I thought was my right as a human being. But I guess in the eyes of mainstream "from here" society, all I will ever be is "exotic".
Love and Light,
A. Bean
PS - Leave your thoughts, comments, and experiences below! Am I alone in feeling this way? Have you ever been called exotic or has your race ever been questioned?
